


Insult to Injury

by vaguecorvids



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cowgirl Position, M/M, ferdinand is soft for his husband, hubert has a broken wrist, hubert is in turn soft for ferdinand, thats it!, that’s kinda all i can think of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24272404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguecorvids/pseuds/vaguecorvids
Summary: In which Hubert returns from a mission with a broken wrist, and Ferdinand makes him feel better.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 6
Kudos: 120





	Insult to Injury

**Author's Note:**

> why are summaries so hard? the world may never know.

As he rode through Enbarr after being away for a week on a mission, Hubert did some thinking.

Before his time at the academy, he was unbiased toward horses at best, and disliked them at worst- if only because of his fear of heights. Since then, they’ve reminded him of his husband. Though that was quite vexing during their actual school years, Hubert eventually found himself smiling when riding was brought up, merely because it was something Ferdinand enjoyed.

Hubert couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he’d fallen for Ferdinand; it seemed as though one day he’d woken up with his heart aching for the redhead.

For a long time, Hubert loathed Ferdinand. Or perhaps he’d never hated him, and had simply been jealous of all the attention Ferdinand afforded Edelgard. Hubert wasn’t sure, and he was too tired to think further on that specifically, eyelids heavy as the manor came into view.

Hubert instead turned his thoughts to Ferdinand himself, remembering how when he had left this time, Ferdinand had pulled his face down between gentle palms, kissed his forehead, and told him to return safely. He remembers the night before, when he’d held Ferdinand close and promised to do just that. This mission hadn’t been very dangerous- few of them had since the war’s end- but Ferdinand proved himself to be a worrier when it came to Hubert, and really, one could never be too careful.

Which is why Hubert cursed himself as he dismounted even less gracefully than usual due to the splint around his forearm.

He hadn’t been attacked- no, this injury insulted itself by being the product of Hubert slipping on a rug at the Bergliez estate. (This mission had Hubert staying there for reasons Hubert no longer cared about now that it was over.) Caspar had been apologetic, had called a healer in, but was told that she was currently at home because her daughter was having a baby. Linhardt would have been there to help, but he had been sick for Hubert’s entire visit, and Caspar refused to wake him. Fortunately, Caspar insisted on having a non-magical physician on staff, who set Hubert’s arm and assured him that it would be fine until he returned, and would be safe enough for the trip.

Hubert had still given Caspar an earful for not having the sense to hire more than one healer.

After about three and a half minutes of fighting the rope, Hubert had managed to tie up his horse, andheaded into the manor. It was late, so he wasn’t surprised when there were no servants around to take his riding coat. Hubert shoved it off, dropping it in the foyer without much thought, and started up the stairs. The thing he wanted most at the moment was likely in their shared bed, fast asleep.

Because he assumed this, given the hour, Hubert was not prepared to see light streaming from the door to their bedroom where it was open just that tiny bit. What he expected less were the soft noises pouring from the opening, noises he was all too familiar with.

Using the skills that allowed him to succeed as a spy, he crept toward the open door, as quietly as physically possible. The closer he came, the images of what Ferdinand was probably doing grew ever more vivid. He approached the door and quietly, so quietly, pushed it open, careful not to push past the point where it always creaked. The sight that greeted him was truly one to behold.

There lie Ferdinand, naked as the day he was born, stretched out upon their shared bed. One hand stroked himself languidly as small noises escaped his throat, the other caressing his chest much the way Hubert might have- the way Hubert wanted to so, so desperately. Apparently a week was, in fact, too long.

As Hubert thought this, his injured arm nudged the door just that small bit necessary for it to creak, drawing Ferdinand’s attention. The fiery-haired man paused his ministrations, eyes shooting open and to the doorway, but his face softened as he realized who it was. His hands continued their previous movements.

“Hubert, my love, why ever are you standing there watching? This would be much more fun were you to join me, dearest,” he smiled softly, bringing the hand on his chest to circle a nipple.

“Of course, darling,” Hubert began, pushing the door open. As he came into Ferdinand’s view, however, he saw his lover’s face blanche- a stark contrast to the lovely flush that had adorned it moments ago.

“Hubert, what has happened to your arm?” Ferdinand was up in an instant, coy little games all but forgotten, stepping towards Hubert with his hands hovering as though he wanted to assess the damage, but didn’t want to hurt his beloved.

Now it was Hubert’s turn to blush. “Ah, well,” he started, embarrassed, “you see- Caspar’s healer was out, and-”

“Hubie, dearest, how did you _injure_ your arm?”

“...Rug,” Hubert muttered, not meeting Ferdinand’s gaze.

“I beg your pardon?” Ferdinand asked, puzzled.

“A rug. It slipped out as I walked over it, and, er. Yes.”

“Oh, Hubert,” Ferdinand looked as though he may stomp his foot, “why didn’t you write? I would have brought our healer out-”

“It was the last day of the trip- that is, yesterday- and it didn’t seem worth the trouble. Caspar had a doctor on staff, and I was told it would be fine for the ride home.”

“Well, it’s a good thing Caspar had that much sense!” Ferdinand responded, pulling a shirt on and searching for something. “Hubert, do you see my pants?”

“Pants?” Hubert’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because,” Ferdinand began, looking exasperated, “I am going to take you to our healer. Come, help me look for them. And for the record, you are always worth the trouble, love.” He returned to looking around the room. Hubert grabbed Ferdinand’s wrist with his good hand.

“Ferdinand,” he said as the man in question turned to him, “much as I appreciate your worry, this,” Hubert lifted his broken arm, “is the furthest thing from my mind after what I just saw. I will live until morning.”

It was then that Ferdinand seemed to realize that Hubert’s pupils were blown wide.

“I see,” Ferdinand replied with a smirk, crossing the room to lie on the bed once more, “Well then, I hope I can at least persuade you to come to bed? It would not do to have you injured _and_ worn out, after all.”

“Somehow, I feel I may wind up worn out anyway, my heart,” Hubert retorted, pulling off the sling and his overshirt. He ran into a bit of trouble at his injured arm, though Ferdinand sat up in a flash to help him ease it off. Ferdinand moved to his pants next, foregoing asking him about how he had managed to do up the laces on his own. He placed a kiss on each of Hubert’s bony hips, leaving his smallclothes for the moment, and brought his hands up with a stifled chuckle to pull at the poorly-tied cravat around Hubert’s neck. Hubert, meanwhile, toed his riding boots off, as Ferdinand was apparently too busy to bother with them, and he stepped out of both those and his pants once he’d managed it. He took Ferdinand’s face in his good hand, ushering the other man’s gaze up and away from the buttons he was working on.

Ferdinand smiled as his face tilted back down, though his eyes remained focused on Hubert from beneath his lashes. “Yes, Minister Vestra?”

Hubert nearly snorted. It never ceased to amuse him to hear Ferdinand, his husband, call him by his title. “Nothing, Minister Aegir,” he retorted, “I was simply admiring my husband in all his glory.” He stroked the high of Ferdinand’s cheek with his knuckles.

Ferdinand smiled- a soft, tender expression- as he let out an airy laugh. For as rowdy as Ferdinand could be, for all the fights he had found himself involved in over the years (never starting them, and always defending someone, of course- as any true noble would!) Hubert would always think of him as a breath of fresh air. It was funny, the way they fit together- like night and day: so different, but they found that they could not live without one another.

Once Ferdinand had completed his duty- which for the time being, was ridding Hubert of his shirt- he dropped down to his knees to finally take care of his smalls. He pulled them down without much formality, shucking them to the floor with the rest of Hubert’s clothes, planting a kiss to the tip of Hubert’s member. Unfortunately for Hubert, who in that moment felt his knees buckle, Ferdinand stood promptly afterward. Fortunately for Hubert, Ferdinand then pulled him by his good arm to the bed.

“Come, my dear, lie down,” Ferdinand prompted, patting the bed. Hubert didn’t really need it.

As Hubert settled himself on his back, Ferdinand crawled over him, straddling his hips. “I hope you do not mind, I-” he stopped for a moment as he slipped a hand behind himself, “ah, I couldn’t help myself...I knew you would be home tonight and I may have, mm, prepared...” he let out a slight gasp. Apparently finding every thing satisfactory, Ferdinand positioned himself above Hubert’s cock. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Hubert couldn’t possibly have answered coherently. He nodded perhaps a touch too enthusiastically, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Please,” he managed to croak out.

Ferdinand laughed that beautiful laugh, the one that made Hubert think of summertime and freshly cut grass, and took hold of Hubert’s length to steady it. “Goodness, Hubie, I didn’t think you’d be begging. We haven't even started!” On this last syllable, Ferdinand lowered himself so Hubert’s tip was just barely brushing his entrance. “You truly missed me, didn’t you?”

It wasn’t a question. Of course Hubert has missed him, as had Ferdinand missed Hubert. Ferdinand was teasing, and by the Goddess, it was working.

Hubert nodded again, once more a bit too eager, and his good hand flew to Ferdinand’s hip. His injured arm lay limply near his head, fingers struggling to grasp at the sheets, failing because of the splint. Ferdinand couldn’t help but chuckle again as he lowered himself, though he cut the noise off with a low moan.

“Goddess, Ferdinand,” gasped Hubert, squeezing his lover’s hip, “fuck, how I’ve craved you.”

Then Ferdinand shifted, sinking down until Hubert was fully sheathed within him, brow furrowed in concentration, and Hubert would swear he saw stars.

“Ferdie- _shit,_ darling,” Hubert started, breaking off into a choked noise when Ferdinand began to slide up and down his shaft. Ferdinand leaned down to capture his love’s mouth in a heated kiss, one arm resting beside Hubert’s head to steady himself, the other pulling Hubert’s from his hip and lacing their fingers together.

_“Ah!”_ Ferdinand pulled away in with a gasp when Hubert bucked up to meet him, hitting that lovely little place inside of him that made his vision go white. “It would seem you- Goddess, yes, _there-_ your little spill hasn’t, oh, deterred you in this endeavor!”

“Ferdinand, dearest, you are my heart, and I treasure you, but if you continue to prattle on about my clumsiness while we are- flames, love- I will not hesitate in smacking you on the side of that pretty head of yours.”

“Oh?” Ferdinand smirked, the expression dulled slightly by the sweat and flush of his cheeks, “Isn’t there somewhere better that could be directed-”

His teasing facade shattered into a high croon when Hubert loosed his hand and pulled Ferdinand’s ponytail, miraculously still held together by a navy ribbon. Ferdinand’s hands clutched at Hubert’s ribs like they were his life force, nails scraping the pale flesh there just so.

“Ferdie, my love,” Hubert coaxed, bringing his good hand up to squeeze a freckled pectoral, _“Goddess,_ how I love you. Won’t you come undone for me?”

“Hubie,” breathed Ferdinand, “You know me better than that. I understand you’re- _oh-_ injured, but surely you have it in you to put in some effort?” he teased, guiding Hubert’s uninjured hand to his own weeping cock.

If Hubert was anything, he was eager to serve, so naturally he began to slowly pump his husband’s length.

“Ah! You, _hah,_ you tease me, love,” Ferdinand whined, his chin dropping to his chest, eyes screwed shut. “You are truly a menace.”

_“Your_ menace,” Hubert retorted, a softness to his eyes and a smile on his lips. It was a look Ferdinand was quite sure only he had ever seen. When Ferdinand opened his eyes to see that expression, he thought he might be reduced to tears for how tender it was. He did, in fact, cry out, though that could really only be attributed to the sudden bucking of Hubert’s hips.

“Yes,” Ferdinand replied, somewhat breathless but untiring in the rise and fall of his hips, “my menace indeed.”

Hubert’s hand continued its work on Ferdinand’s member, movement’s growing faster as he neared his peak.

“Ferdinand, I may not last much longer, my dear,” Hubert managed to work out between gasps.

“That is quite alright,” Ferdinand said fondly, “I’m not sure I will either. Come, let us finish together.” With that, he began to lift and drop his hips just that bit faster, pushing his leaking length into Hubert’s hand as he sheathed Hubert’s own inside himself.

Ferdinand released first- if only by a fraction of a moment- spending all over Hubert’s bony chest as his walls milked his lover for all he could give him. Ferdinand collapsed atop his husband, looking up at Hubert to give a tired smile.

“Welcome home.”

“It is good to _be_ home, my heart.”


End file.
